Car Crash
by RayWritesThings
Summary: The Dursleys tell Harry what happened to his parents.


**Hello, readers. I've decided to start cross-posting some of my fics from AO3 and tumblr over to FFN, so if you recognize this story most likely you've read it on either of my accounts there (Ray_Writes and raywritesthings, respectively). If you haven't read it before, I hope you enjoy!**

**-RayWritesThings**

**Car Crash**

"What happened to my parents?" Harry asked in place of a greeting after a long walk back to Number 4 from the primary school. He didn't think it was rude; Aunt Petunia always ignored him when he came through the kitchen door a whole half hour after she'd picked up Dudley, unless there were chores that needed doing.

His aunt nonetheless dropped the pan she'd been scrubbing with a great gasp, flecks of sudsy water just missing her gaping mouth. "Why would you want to know such a horrid thing?"

"All the other students know about their parents," Harry pointed out rather reasonably. "I was only asking-"

"Don't ask questions!" Aunt Petunia reprimanded, color rising in her high cheeks.

"Sorry!" He squeaked, ducking through the archway into the hall. His aunt had been reaching for the pan again and he hoped his hasty retreat might persuade her to simply return to washing it.

"Well that was stupid," said his cousin, who had been listening on the stairs. "Your parents died. Dad said so. He says that's why you have to stay here."

"Brilliant, Dudley," said Harry. "And all this time I'd thought I was on holiday." He slipped through the door to the cupboard under the stairs before the larger boy could begin to try and puzzle that out.

Harry had always been aware he didn't have parents the same way he knew he didn't have friends or toys or a room of his own: because Dudley had them and Harry didn't. And if his dream of returning to a home where he did have those things was impossible, then he only thought it fair to know why.

He had given up on it by the time his aunt called everyone to dinner. But halfway through the meal, Uncle Vernon set down his knife and fork. This was out of the ordinary, as Uncle Vernon never stopped in the middle of eating. What was even more out of the ordinary was that he turned to Harry, who he usually avoided looking at while eating as he claimed it put him off.

"So," Uncle Vernon began, "your aunt says you've been asking questions."

"I didn't mean to," Harry immediately replied.

"Don't lie," Aunt Petunia snapped, her face pale and drawn.

"Want to know what happened to them, do you?" His uncle asked with a leer Harry had learned to be wary of. "Think it'll be some kind of story? Those good-for-nothings went and got themselves killed, that's the truth of it."

Uncle Vernon reached for his utensils as if that settled the matter.

"How?" Harry demanded hotly.

The beefy man did not rebuke him for the question; instead he looked briefly to Aunt Petunia, who nodded stiffly.

"Car crash," his uncle said. "They were the worst sort of drivers. Irresponsible, speeders. Brought you with them, even."

Harry had never heard this before. He had been with his parents when they died? If only he could remember them!

"Who hit them?"

"No one. They were at fault. Ran the light or some other foolishness."

"You're lying!"

Dudley watched with wide eyes and a forkful of potatoes halfway to his mouth, as though Harry and Uncle Vernon were a particularly entertaining television program.

His uncle's face was shifting from red to the very beginnings of purple as he growled, "They most certainly were. Irresponsible! Got what they asked for living like that, far as I'm concerned. Knew exactly where they'd end up! Probably had a few too-"

"Vernon!" Everyone at the table jumped at Aunt Petunia's sharp interjection. She went pink, then pale again as she continued in a much more measured tone, "You're only feeding his curiosity."

Uncle Vernon seemed to physically deflate as he agreed, "Quite right, Pet. You're not to ask any more questions, boy. Understood?"

Harry nodded mutely, then fled the table. His cupboard was again his only refuge, and Harry stuffed his face under his pillow to muffle his cries.

His parents had gotten themselves into an accident and left him. It couldn't be true. He didn't want it to be true.

Harry screwed up his face in an effort to stop the tears leaking into the lumpy mattress. It was his own fault for asking the questions, just like it had been his parents' fault getting into the accident. That's what the Dursleys would say.

"Why did you have to leave me here?" Harry whispered in the darkness of the cupboard. "Why didn't you stop?"

His sleep was fitful and full of dreams of the backs of two hazy figures in the distance getting in a car and driving away. Harry wished he were with them as he had been as a baby, only this time he wanted to stay.


End file.
